


Snow Falling Like Embers

by Chex (provetheworst)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-05 12:54:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1819195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/provetheworst/pseuds/Chex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Steve tries to join the Survey Corps, and Bucky goes along with it because it's not like he's going to let Steve go it alone. The world needed an Attack on Titan/Captain America crossover probably.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is running off the MCU premise of Steve and Bucky as childhood best friends. It probably takes place before the main Attack on Titan series, but I'm playing kind of loose with canon on both sides of the crossover so bear with me. Not super shippy in this first part, but Stucky is endgame anyway.
> 
> (If you're not familiar with Attack on Titan, it's basically a weird apocalyptic future where all of mankind lives within a set of three circular walls - Wall Sina, Wall Maria, and Wall Rose - while outside is plagued by huge, creepy-looking giants called Titans. If you haven't seen it you should totally watch it because it rules. Also I think this fic is going to end up spoiling a few things related to the series, sort of, a little. Maybe? I don't know yet. Oh god. Wish me luck.) 
> 
> I hope you enjoy.

“You look ridiculous,” Steve says, reaching up to straighten Bucky’s shirt, the collar of which is pulled at an absurd diagonal. “How’d you even manage to screw up dressing this bad?”

“At least my uniform fits,” Bucky says, which is a fair criticism. Steve’s jacket could be charitably referred to as loose; less charitably as baggy. The military’s seen its share of underfed and scrawny recruits, but even a small jacket hangs off him awkwardly.

“I’ll grow into it,” Steve says.

“Uh-huh.” Bucky eyes him. “We can still drop out, you know. Go make a living as farmers?”

“Like hell.” Steve rolls his eyes. “I want to see what’s outside those walls.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve told me.” Bucky throws an arm around Steve’s shoulders. “All right, then, I don’t want to hear the whole speech over again. Let’s get out there, yeah?”

-

“You, recruit! Who are you?”

“Steve Rogers of Trost District, sir!” Steve stares Shen right in the eyes, clapping his fist against his chest in a salute - and then doubles over coughing.

“What do you think you’re doing here?”

“I’m -” Steve catches his breath and wipes a hand across his mouth before resuming his salute, more careful this time. “I want to see what’s outside the walls, sir!”

“You’re too small to even be Titan bait,” Shen says, disdainfully. “Go home.”

“No, ma’am,” Steve says. “Give me a chance and I’ll be the best soldier the Survey Corps has ever seen!”

Shen throws his head back as he laughs out loud. “That’s presumptuous, isn’t it? Good luck.”

“Thank you, sir!”

Shen is in Bucky’s face, next, glaring him down. Bucky glares right back. “Who do you think you are?”

“James Buchanan Barnes from Trost, sir!” Bucky salutes without faltering. He doesn’t look at Steve.

“Is that so? What makes you think you should be here?”

“I’m going to work hard and join the Survey Corps, sir,” Bucky answers. He starts out almost shouting, but his voice fades a bit at the end.

“Doesn’t sound like you believe that. What do you really want?”

“To join the Military Police, sir!” Bucky jerks his head up, defiant now. “I want an easy life, but -”

“But what, recruit?”

Bucky wavers.

“Figure it out.” Shen smirks, and turns away, on to the next recruit already.

Bucky’s shoulders slump. He looks over at Steve and tries to smile. He’ll join the Survey Corps if Steve does. If Steve makes it in the first place.

Three recuits later, and Commander Ran Shen makes a girl cry. “I - I - it’s not stupid,” she says, in an answer to something Bucky didn’t hear.

“Sir, excuse me,” Steve says, pushing his way out of line. “What you just said to her was out of line.”

“I’m your commander. What I say is the line,” Shen says, ignoring him. “Get back into formation, recruit.”

“Excuse me, miss, are you all right -”

“I said, get back into line.”

Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose. “Leave it, Steve.”

“I’m not going to leave it! Just because we’re recruits doesn’t mean -”

Shen punches Steve and he goes down like that, blood pouring from his nose. The crack when Shen’s fist hit it makes Bucky worry it’s broken. He doesn’t mean to, but he breaks formation, stepping out of the row to crouch over Steve. “C’mon, get up.”

“What?”

“Steve, c’mon,” Bucky says, grabbig his hand and pulling him back to his feet. He lowers his voice. “I told you this was a bad idea -”

“Get back in formation and I’ll deal with you later,” Shen says.

“Aw, hell.”

-

Somehow, maybe because of his absurd levels of resolve, Steve doesn’t get kicked out that first day. Nor the second, even though he can only keep himself up on the simulated 3DMG for a few seconds at best before trembling muscles give out and he hangs there upside down.

By the third, when he’s proven he really isn’t strong enough for 3DMG, that’s when it’s over.

“I’m quitting, too,” Bucky says, watching Steve pack his meager belongings. A few books, his normal clothes, a necklace his mom had given him before she died.

“No, you’re not.”

“Am, too. You need somebody to -”

“I can make it fine,” Steve says. “I’ll be okay. Not like anything’s gonna hurt me inside these stupid walls.”

“Steve -”

“Don’t,” Steve says. “I’m gonna … It’s okay. I’ll figure something out. You get that Military Police position you wanted, okay?”

“Aw, man.” Bucky looks up at the ceiling. “What are you gonna do?”

“Go back and tell your mom the truth. What’d she think if both of us washed out?”

“That’s a cheap shot and you know it.”

Steve smiles at him. “Worked, didn’t it?”

“Hell.” Bucky laughs. He sits down on the edge of his bunk, finally taking off the straps for his 3DMG. He’s missing dinner for this conversation, should have changed into his normal clothes ages ago. Instead he’s sitting here hassling Steve. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“Come see me when you get a day off. It’ll be fine. Not like you’re going far.”

“I guess,” Bucky says.

-

Bucky works hard. He studies and trains and practices, and keeps the barracks clean when it turns out no one else will, and still ends up in at least a dozen fights within his first year.

Commander Shen doesn’t know what to do with him. He’s got promise, but. But.

Bucky works hard, and disappoints just about everyone besides Steve, and still somehow ends up in the top ten students of his class. He’s eighth, though he likes to tell people it’s technically a tie for seventh that’s only decided because everyone likes Toro better. First is a girl named Natasha, one of the kids Bucky would count as a friend. Second’s one of his friends, too, a guy named Sam whose skills with the 3DMG leave even veteran soldiers in the dust.

Bucky likes both of them. He wishes he’d done better, so they could have rounded out the top three together.

“Which brigade are you going to join?” he asks them, the night before graduation. He looks down at his glass of water as he drinks, rather than met their eyes.

“Military Police,” Sam says. He spears a piece of potato with his fork, gesturing pointedly with it before popping it into his mouth. “I made it into the top ten, man. Why wouldn’t I?”

“We worked our asses off so we wouldn’t have to work later,” Natasha says, coolly. “Why, you having second thoughts?”

Sam punches Bucky in the arm, grinning at Natasha. “He’s been having second thoughts his whole life.”

“I don’t even know what that means, but okay, “Bucky says. “It’s always been the Survey Corps for me.”

“He’s lying.” Nat leans over to Sam, lowering her voice in a fake whisper that’s still loud enough for Bucky to hear easily. Bucky rolls his eyes at her. “He wants to join the Military Police, just like the rest of us, but then that signmaker friend of his would yell at him.”

“First of all, Steve is -- well, he is a sign maker. He wouldn’t yell at me. He’d just be disappointed.”

“And that’s worse, right?” Sam leans back, fingers curled around the bench for balance.

“You could probably get authorization to have him come live with you,” Natasha says. “Marry him or something, settle down once you’ve got that cozy spot in the interior.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Bucky says.

“Could be. Did you ask?”

“No, because I’m joining the Survey Corps.” He lifts his chin, then sighs, heavily, dropping his head to the table. “I’m not joining the Survey Corps. I can’t.”

“Not even if your friend gets mad?”

“It’s like, I can’t decide if I’d rather keep him safe or make him proud.”

“He’d probably be proud of you either way,” Sam tries. “Maybe. I mean, it’s possible.”

“Maybe you should have thought more about this sooner,” Natasha says, before turning her attention to her soup, done with the conversation.

-

Bucky joins the Survey Corps. He doesn’t really mean to do it. He’s so, so close to just going for the Military Police. He earned his spot, worked hard for it. He’s damn good at what he does.

Joining the Survey Corps ups his chances of dying, but it also ups his chances of doing something -- anything -- useful to humanity as a whole, rather than just the monarchy. Bucky appreciates the monarchy. The king’s kept order through brief periods of civil unrest, always somehow pulling humanity together again.

Bucky’s grateful. He is. He’s seen how cruel and petty mankind can get. He’s also seen, in Steve Rogers, how good it can get.

-

Bucky survives his first expedition outside the walls. The mission was a rousing success, apparently, according to the wounded soldier he rode behind after losing his horse to an aberrant Titan.

A third of the Survey Corps died. Commander fury lost an eye. They were a hundred yards from their goal before having to turn back because of an overwhelming number of Titans.

And Barton calls it a success.

The wounded, ragged procession is greeted with cheers. They lasted longer than the last several expeditions, and apparently news of their failure hasn’t really permeated the crowd yet.

Steve’s out there, standing on a crate just so he can see, looking proud. Steve salutes them.

Bucky lowers his eyes and pretends he didn’t notice. He’ll see Steve later. Right now, he can’t stand the thought of telling Steve how bad it went out there, how Bucky was terrified out of his wits by the first Titan he saw and nearly died three times over. It's his fault Commander Fury's eye is gone, probably. There had been a lot of yelling, and Bucky had run straight into another Titan. 

Bucky killed one of them himself, somehow, he thinks. He’s not entirely sure. The memories blur together a little.

Captain Hill was the real savior of the day. Without her, he’d be dead. Without Barton, he’d be dead. 

He can’t believe he’s not dead. Ninth in his class. Making the top ten didn't seem to mean anything anymore.

-

“Wishing you’d joined the Military Police now?” Coulson asks, kindly.

Bucky laughs. “A bit, yeah.”

“Well, you didn’t,” Coulson says. “First expedition’s always the hardest. You survive that, you’re already doing better than a lot of our members.”

“I know,” Bucky says.

“Don’t be so down on yourself. You did fine.” Coulson claps a hand against Bucky’s back. “C’mon, eat your dinner. Giving up now, that’s not a choice you can make. Not unless you want to dishonor everything the soldiers who died today is. Not unless you want to regret it for the rest of your life.”

Bucky nods.

“You’ve got to keep fighting. If not for your sake, then for theirs.”

Or for Steve’s, Bucky thinks. He sits up straighter, angry at himself, and at the world, and glad Steve’s not here. He doesn’t want Steve to ever see this, the Survey Corps moping and licking its wounds like a dying animal.

His first thought is that Steve wouldn’t be able to handle it. His second is that he’s scared Steve would handle it better than him.

“You gonna be okay?” Coulson asks.

“Yeah.”

“Good. Then I’m going to go talk to the next traumatized kid, and the next one, and however many of you I’ve got to. You’ll be fine.”

Bucky nods. He’s not the only one. He knew that, on some level, but the reminder’s nice.

He eats his dinner, has a drink, and decides he’ll go see Steve next week when he’s got some leave.

He needs time, is all. Just a little time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey look it's another chapter of this thing! have the beginnings of some plot
> 
> i am the slowest of writers. i'm sorry.
> 
> this is still the weirdest AU. if you're not familiar with attack on titan, uh, sorry? sorry.

“So what’s it like?” Steve asks, bright-eyed and awestruck.

“Big.” Bucky opens his arms out wide as they’ll go. “Lot more room than we’ve got cooped up in here, at least. But it’s crawling with Titans out there. Just awful with ‘em.”

“Well, we knew that,” Steve says.

“I got one of ‘em. Just like that, whack! with my sword. Steam just poured right out.”

“Steam?” Steve wavers, like he’s torn between leaning back in shock and leaning forward with interest. That, or he’s just wobbling because he’s tired even sitting down.

“Yeah, steam. They’re hot. I mean, I heard it before, but it’s like they’re burning up from the inside. Stupid, too,” Bucky says. He shakes his head and puts on a smile. “Mission didn’t go so great, but I’m alive, at least.”

“Everybody out there knew what they were signing up for.” Steve folds his hands on the table and looks down. “And I’d be out there, too, if I could. You know that. I worry about you, Buck.”

“Shit, you worry about me?” He flicks a pea at Steve’s head, and Steve makes a face. “I’m the one who should be worried. You been picking fights while I was gone?”

“It’s not like I pick fights -”

“Uh-huh,” Bucky says. “Sure it’s not. What’s that, on your arm? What happened there?” He leans over the table, tugging Steve’s sleeve up to reveal a bruise that’s bigger than Bucky expected. He rubs a thumb over it, staring. “The hell have you been doing?”

“So maybe I got in a fight.” Steve winces, pulling his arm away and holding it close to his body. “Not my fault. They were badmouthing the Survey Corps, saying it was a waste of money, and I just tried to tell ‘em, you know, best guy I’ve ever known joined the Survey Corps, and they better not talk about it like that, or else.”

“Or else they’d get the chance to beat your ass? Right,” Bucky says. “Tale old as time. People are allowed their opinions, Steve, you gotta pick your battles.”

“I tried to,” Steve says. “You were there. I woulda joined the Survey Corps if they’d let me.”

“I know.” Bucky sighs, leaning back and looking up at the ceiling. “Look, hey, how’ve you been? Meet any nice girls at that job of yours?”

“Nah.” Steve laughs, a short, dry sound, not too far removed from a cough. “When’s a girl ever actually wanted to talk to me?”

“Hey, now, that Kate girl asked you for a pencil once in class,” Bucky says. “That’s sort of like -”

That earns a more genuine laugh. “Aw, shut up. Jerk.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky says. “C’mon. Tell me about the civilian life. I’m dying to know here.”

“Uh-huh,” Steve says, rolling his eyes, but he launches into a story about a finnicky customer who kept wanting him to make things ‘cooler’ in some nebulous way, without specifying what they thought cool meant. The whole thing’s banal and silly and Bucky leans into it. He likes the Survey Corps fine, but he likes the reminder of normalcy better.

This is who he enlisted for, after all. Steve, and probably the rest of humanity, too, in some nebulous way, but mostly Steve. Bucky wants the Survey Corps to succeed. If Steve wants to see what’s outside the walls, Bucky wants to get him there.

He listens to Steve’s stories and keeps telling himself he’s justified, that none of this was a mistake. That he shouldn’t have just found a normal job or worked the fields or something, stayed with Steve, watched out for him.

Bucky’s just looking out for him in a more metaphoric way now, is all.

“Aw, and that reminds me -- Buck, you’re not gonna beleive this one,” Steve starts, and launches into another story. Bucky leans forward, resting his head on the palm of his hand, and listens.

-

It’s two years before the Survey Corps goes outside the walls again. Bucky lives in the barracks. If he wears his uniform, he gets looks from people, sidelong glances. He pretends not to notice.

He pretends not to hear when they grumble about the waste of money, how their tax dollars are supporting such a pointless endeavor. Sometimes he’ll grin and offer a wink when someone will follow up the complaints with, well, at least they know how to pick ‘em, did you see that guy?

That’ll usually earn a blush, maybe a stammered apology, sometimes a sly smile in return instead. A few times it’s gotten him laid.

First time it happens, he tells Steve. Steve’s brought work home with him. Bucky’s got leave. Steve stops painting, his brush hovering over the sign. A drip of blue falls from the brush and mars his work, and he groans, says, “Jeez, Buck, way to go.”

“You okay there?” Bucky asks, laughing.

“Fine, fine. Girls love a man in uniform, huh?”

Bucky laughs, and agrees, and doesn’t tell Steve about it the next time.

They go outside the walls with a new group of trainees in tow. It’s quiet. They ride through a forest of huge trees. Bucky’s seen trees like this before, done training maneuvers in forests just like this one, but things still feel unfamiliar.

The air’s still and humid. They’ve only spotted a few titans, far off in the distance, easily avoided.

The carts rattle over the rough ground. Bucky’s horse breathes heavily as it gallops. Its flanks rise and fall under his legs. He leans forward, strokes its neck, keeps his eyes forward. The insignia on the back of Squad Leader Hill’s cape is a beacon. He keeps his eyes on it, follows her. There are people following him, in turn.

They reach their destination, leave supplies for the next journey. “Next time,” Commander Fury says, “We’re going further. We’ll push farther. We’re going to -”

A titan drops from the trees. Bucky didn’t know they could climb, but this one’s ragged and while and knocks Commander Fury from his horse.

Someone, maybe Bucky, yells, “Aberrant!” like it’s not obvious, and then Bucky’s in the air, sword drawn, the trees a minor blessing for maneuvering. The target is huge, at least fifteen meters, maybe more. The trees are taller, at least. He can get above it, swing down for an attack.

He misses. He tries again, barely dodges a skinny arm that’s still bigger around than he is.

Half the squad’s turned tail, and Bucky barely notes their departure before his attention’s needed elsewhere. There’s another titan, now, and another.

Bucky fights.

Bucky falls.

Bucky lies on his back and stares up at the canopy of the trees.

The big ape-like titan picks him up, and Bucky thinks, well, at least he had a good run. There’s a snapping sound; his arm, some ribs.

Bucky’s not sure if he screams. Someone does. The titan still hasn't eaten him. He keeps waiting for it to happen, can't figure out why it doesn't.

The last thing he thinks is how glad he is that Steve's not here, then things go black; everything's blessedly peaceful. At least Steve's alright.


End file.
